Quintessence
by Okobo-chan
Summary: Gaara and Sakura are caught in a veritable spiders web of political formalities during the composition of a renewed treaty between Konoha and Suna. Sarcasm and bluntness just might save the day, or what's left of Sakura's sanity. [GaaSaku] Post Time Skip
1. Confusion

Title: Quintessence

Pairing: Gaara/Sakura  
Chapter: One  
Rating: K+, Offensive language content  
Summary: "Control was a virtue befitting a Kage. Control."

Disclaimer: Naruto doesn't belong to me! If it did, this would have happened canon, sheesh.

**Chapter One: Confusion**

"...No."

There was no hesitation in his voice. No caprice. It was a statement.

"I'm sorry, what was that?"

There she stood, not ten feet away, shuffling papers. Her head tilted slightly, staring at him in confusion. The simple fact that she had remained in his immediate field of vision grated. If he had been in a more stable state of mind he might have appreciated the gesture of willingly given trust. Unfortunately for her, for the time being, he'd decided to interpret it as taunting his own good will. Did she truly consider his new existence so complaisant? The fact that he was the Kazekage didn't raise him above terrorizing those would denigrate him. At least when he could get away with it. And right now this kunoichi was in serious danger of actually pissing him off.

Her eyes didn't waver from his as he splayed his fingers on the desk, slowly raising his body up from a regrettably comfortable seated position. Aquamarine eyes narrowed in resentment as he rounded the desk to invade her "personal space", as his brother was so fond of complaining when implemented on the puppeteer. The same brother who continued to waste oxygen in Suna thanks to his current source of aggravation. He fought back a wave of black anger at the thought, steadying his breath. Control was a virtue befitting a Kage. Control.

He'd felt off-kilter ever since his arrival in Konoha, his presence necessary for participation in the signing of a formal peace treaty long neglected. This was probably due to his frustration over the increase of needless political minutiae, but his lack of understanding in the case of this Konoha delegate's motives weren't helping. The kunoichi, as expected, had been unfailingly polite. What hadn't been expected was her general attentiveness. Friendliness that didn't verge on the brusque mannerisms he had previously observed. His arms flexed as they crossed defensively against the breadth of his chest.

He leaned in to hover over her, using his admittedly small height difference to full advantage. And she was wearing heels. Point, he tallied.

"No. _Sakura_," he spat.

He'd tried to kill her. It wasn't logical. _She_ wasn't logical. What the fuck was she up to? He hated the instability, the insidiousness of it all.

Her hands wavered in their handling of documents. Taking an unsteady breath, she looked down at her hands, breaking eye contact. Once, twice, she opened her mouth only to smooth her lips, hesitantly.

"Not hungry then?" She queried, lightly, flipping to a page and studying it intently.

She shifted her weight from left to right at the sound of his rapid fire nasal exhalation.

Control.

"I am hungry," he replied smoothly.

"Ah." Her voice was tremulous. His ego felt marginally recouped at the falter. Seconds passed as his suspicion mounted.

He ducked his head down to peer into her eyes, voice lowered to a dangerous rasp,

"I'm not a project, or one of your pretty little medical experiments you work on, reporting back to the Hokage."

Her face paled, clashing horribly with her roseate hair. "What are you tal...?"

He cut her off, racing on with exponential rage at the confirmation. Sand was sluggishly churning in the gourd that sat conveniently in a corner. His fingers itched for it. Medics. He sneered. Prying into his life, monitoring his every move, every meal..

"I've seen what a _friend _is to you. You don't sugarcoat your words with them."

Her every word seemed carefully chosen. Not that he wasn't used to people being wary of him, but then again they didn't approach him out of fear, while she did. Friend of Naruto or not, it reeked of ulterior motive. Especially given her position to the Hokage.

Her eyes flashed, widening minutely, face reddening.

"That's because I don't have to walk around on eggshells constantly due to their mental state, _Gaara_," she bellowed, "You've been edgy since the moment you got here, and I don't know a damned thing about you personally besides Chuunin Exams and Naruto's rants! I got thrown into this position just as much as you were, so I _thought _I'd try to make the best of it. Not because of Hokage-sama! Not as a, as a medical experiment!"

She suddenly stood straight, prodding a finger into his forearm in accusation.

"You _arrogant... shit_!"

Small amounts of sand cycloned furiously in the air surrounding them, beyond his control.

"So when I ask you to lunch on the pretense of friendship, my _apologies_ if I can't appear more sincere. Your _Royal Higness_," she grit out, and slammed the papers on the desk. She promptly jerked, face once again pallid in apparent retrospect of her actions.

The sand dropped to the floor. He blinked, straightening. Eye muscles that had been curiously straining to twitch had relaxed. Interesting.

Naruto had been apt in describing her interpersonal skills. "She's cute and kind, yet twisted and scary at the same time." He agreed. Even watching her bean his former adversary with an oak tree on a whim hadn't been nearly as unexpected as today's little exhibition.

Control? Oh yeah. Interesting.

The sound of her shaky breathing seemed to fill the room as his fingers gently worked the buckles into place, securing his gourd to his back on bended knee. It left the ground as he rose with a heavy scrape. Footfalls befitting a ninja paused in the doorway.

"Ramen is acceptable."

He walked out with a mental smirk to her indignant sputtering.

-----

Author's Note:

Well. That was a doozy. I'd nap if I didn't have a PHL 140 exam to study for xP Whoot exam week! Hope everyone isn't slacking off as much as I am.

About the title:

Quintessence, or, the fifth element among water, earth, fire, and air.

c.1430, in ancient and medieval philosophy, "pure essence, substance of which the heavenly bodies are composed," lit. "fifth essence," from M.Fr. quinte essence (14c.), from M.L. quinta essentia, from L. quinta, fem. of quintus "fifth" + essentia (see essence). Loan-translation of Gk. pempte ousia, the "ether" added by Aristotle to the four known elements (water, earth, fire, air) and said to permeate all things. Its extraction was one of the chief goals of alchemy. Sense of "purest essence" (of a situation, character, etc.) is first recorded 1570; quintessential (n.) is from 1899, in this sense.

-Citation- "quintessence." _Online Etymology Dictionary_. Douglas Harper, Historian. 17 Apr. 2007.


	2. Observation

Title: Quintessence

Pairing: Gaara/Sakura  
Chapter: Two  
Rating: K+, Offensive language content  
Summary: "Sakura was female. Gaara had a sister. That didn't mean he had a snowball's chance in hell of understanding."

Disclaimer: Naruto doesn't belong to me! If it did, this would have happened canon, sheesh.

**Chapter Two: Observation**

His own insanity was maddening. She took a moment to glare at the mess of now completely unorganized documents on the desk. They'd been in perfect order to submit not five minutes ago. Now it would take her a half an hour to reorganize the pages. Izumo really needed to implement page numbering for loose documents. _Damn_ him. Suna bastard.

Damn the new Kazekage. Damn the shitty treaty that had to be rewritten because of even shittier inter-village protocol. Inner Sakura was currently a raging tower of inferno screaming for blood. Kill, maim!

Her spastically twitching hand reached up to pinch the bridge of her nose. She huffed, finding some manner of equilibrium in the realization that, in the end, she had gotten her way. Gaara's inner thought process remained a mystery, but there was method in his inductions to what she had been offering. Naruto had explained, ad nauseum, about his maltreatment as a jinchuuriki in Suna, so it shouldn't really have come as a surprise that he'd take her gestures of goodwill with a giant fucking heaping of salt and paranoia.

Not that it didn't piss her off. She kicked the desk. The papers scattered even further. Cursing, she stooped to gather them up. So she'd snapped, and ended up... gaining his trust? Sabaku no Gaara. Hokage-sama had instructed her to set aside her previous experiences as a gesture of goodwill. She'd tried, and in forcing herself to go through the motions of the necessary niceties she'd found herself somewhat amazed at the extent of his self restraint. Up until this latest altercation, more specifically.

Though she wasn't playing info-nin for Hokage-sama, that didn't mean that his psyche didn't interest her. Freakishly enough. Ranting under her breath about death wishes, she tapped the pages level once, then booked out of the room. Ichiraku was waiting.

----------

Lightly jogging down the packed earth street, the familiar noren cloth of the ramen stand gradually came fluttering into view. Along with a red head. And a blond. It figured. Muttering several choice verbs under her breath, she approached with a minutely slower foot. There sat Gaara, calmy sipping tea with what looked to be curry ramen; Naruto with his usual Naruto 1. special. Quickly placing an order with Teuchi for a miso ramen bowl and tea, she turned to her old teammate.

"Naruto, aren't you supposed to be babysitting some jeweler instead of chowing down?" she questioned, exasperated.

"Nah, I accidentally offed the thief guy when he tried to swipe some stuff out of the room I was sharing with jeweler dude. Trip wires with kunai, eh heh he." One hand behind his head, laughing sheepishly. Like it was completely natural to do in a _ninja thief _in under five days, with a _genin_ trick. Gaara and Sakura stared. Teuchi set Sakura's miso bowl down on the counter, inadvertently breaking the awkward silence.

"Yeah, anyways, Gaara here says that you asked him out to lunch. Sooooo..."

Sakura shot a furtive glance at Gaara, who sat slurping noodles, staring into his bowl. His eyes flitted sideways, snapping to hers. She blinked rapidly, turning to face Naruto as he spoke.

"How come you never ask _me_ out to lunch, ne Sakura-chan?"

"You're not helping me stay sane through treaty revisions, now, are you."

"Awwww. I would, you know that. I'll have to sit through those when I'm Hokage, ne?" he was leaned back, blue eyes starry.

"Still sounds boring though," here he reached up to rub his chin in contemplation, "Besides, I'm your friend so we should get ramen together more anyways. So why not, ne? Ne?"

Her hand spasmed. If he said ne, _one_ more time..

"Ne, Sakura-chan?"

Dust floated through the air in voluminous clouds. It was almost artistic. Naruto lay crumpled neatly behind his stool, limbs still outstretched, though faintly twitching, over an absent bowl. Sakura brought her clenched fist back to the counter. Contemplating her chopsticks, she nodded once, unknowing. She leaned back slightly, face tilted towards the ground.

"Because you're a moron. That's why," she replied sarcastically, eyes rolling, completely unconcerned with his stationary body as she bent to attend her soup. Gaara stared, unmoved by the violent outburst but vaguely confused as to the particular source of the woman's ire. The question? The delivery? Sakura was female. Gaara had a sister. That didn't mean he had a snowball's chance in hell of understanding. He offered up a mental shrug.

Naruto groaned, hauling himself back onto his stool. He coughed, grinning as he stirred the free floating silt that hung in the air. He leaned in to peer past Sakura at Gaara.

"Sakura-chan sure is freakishly strong, ne?"

Sakura's chopsticks grated against each other. Gaara nodded his head, then moved back to slurp some of the erstwhile cooling curry. It really was very good. He raised his own chopsticks in salute to the cook, who smiled amiably in response. The sounds generated by Sakura running through controlled breathing exercises were rather amusing. She eventually seemed to reach a 'safe point' and took another pull on her soup. He wondered if she gambled.

"What do you think Sukimoto's angle is in all this, Gaara? I understand why Tobita is dragging his feet, but... Sukimoto?" she queried, smacking her lips.

Noriaki Sukimoto was one of the chief instigators of the extended treaty negotiations. Along with Hideo Tobita, he'd unreasonably second guessed nearly every debatable decision to the point of banality. Tobita was a young, up and coming council member with a reputation to build. Sukimoto, on the other hand, didn't have such an excuse. He was a senior council member, with good standing with both his fellow council members and the Hokage herself. It was baffling.

"I don't know. Shouldn't that be your area of information? I have enough to keep in my sights," he paused, "Hatsumi."

Gaara and Sakura would have shared a look identical in it's pained annoyance, if Gaara's eyes hadn't slit as his lips mirrored hers in a sneer. Masaki Hatsumi was Sukimoto's mirror as well, in an antagonistic style that ninja seemed to adhere to so easily. Whether isolationism, village pride, or something entirely different; it was driving them to pit against each other. Only the two men involved could fathom the source. And they were dragging the proceedings down to a mosquito breeding stagnation that was driving both Gaara and Sakura far past sand or kunai as weapons of choice for torment.

Sakura shook her head and sighed.

"Here we are, trying to get away from this mess for five seconds, and we're _still_ talking about it," she grimaced.

Gaara shrugged, and Sakura absently noted that the gesture was too smooth for someone who sat around with what amounted to a metric ton's worth of sand on their back. Was it just her, or did his gourd seem to enlarge with his expansion in height (who grew squash that large anyway)? He was getting tall, albeit not as much as the rest of the boys. And thin. Too thin even. Blinking, she looked at his bowl. Empty. Eh. Maybe he should get seconds...

"Oi, Gaara, good stuff, isn't it?" Naruto was bouncing in his seat, apparently having followed Sakura's eyes. "Old Man! Another bowl for my friend here, he's got room!" Gaara endured a hearty slap on the shoulder, received with a slightly upwards tilt of his lips and a snort.

"Only because you assume we have the same size stomach, meaning the area between here and Kumo."

Sakura snickered into her cooled Miso, nursing what was left of her tea.

The red head allowed another lift of his lips, a more common occurrence around Konoha than Suna, and Naruto in general. Naruto was... well, Naruto. He may have been the instigator of Gaara's current (though comparative) docility, but he was still humorously odd, even by ninja standards. Konoha's general atmosphere was different as well. It almost seemed easier to breathe in the absence of his own people, despite the political tension. He'd accomplished his goal of acknowledgment as a trusted leader by his village, but at the same time he sometimes felt burdened by the daily weight of his responsibilities in the eyes of his ninja.

Suna was different in other ways as well. Turning his head slightly to gaze into the street, he noted the activities throughout. Women were doing their daily grocery shopping, an elderly couple was inspecting lanterns further on down the street, and random nin milled about the nearby food stalls. Suna was a labyrinth of covered walkways and tunnels connecting to buildings necessary for protection from the unforgiving, sandy climate. Most business of any kind was conducted indoors. Spending time outside during midday in full sun was something of a novelty. But, somehow, he missed the oppressive heat.

Accepting another steaming bowl of ramen from Teuchi, he shook off the lingering thoughts of desert from his mind. Shukaku had not been happy to give up his native element, as per usual. The mere thought of leaving for home had his body's captive swiftly ranting about a hasty departure, to which he responded by shoving the insistent annoyance into a distant corner of his mind. He'd try to enjoy the moments offered by Konoha as they lasted.

"...later on?"

Gaara blinked, refocusing on Sakura.

"I asked if Temari would be visiting sometime later on in the week. Your documents and all that. Doesn't she usually run as your emissary?"

"Normally, yes. But who do you think is running things in my absence; Kankurou?"

Sakura pictured Kankurou, in all his short tempered glory, dealing with a mountain of backed paperwork. She paused in lifting a noodle to her mouth.

"Maybe. If he was allowed to sign everything in purple."

Naruto grinned as Gaara's chest heaved once in soundless amusement.

"Ah. Sakura-san. What a quaint spot for lunch."

Sakura choked. Hacking, she batted away Naruto's overexerted pats to her back and reached for her tea, only to find it empty. Gaara surreptitiously slid his own cup towards her, which she hastily gulped. Blinking back watery eyes, she sent a grateful glance in his direction.

"Sukimoto-san," Gaara tilted his head forward in an informal bow.

"Kazekage-sama," Sukimoto bowed in return.

"Can I help you, Sukimoto-san?" She thanked all that was holy she'd missed her clothing as she mopped soup off her chin, turning embarrassedly to regard the council member.

"I do believe that Shizune-san in is need of some documents in your possession."

Sakura frowned slightly, "I left them on her desk before I left Hokage Tower."

"Ah," he replied, smiling politely.

The seconds seemed to draw out as she paused, then reluctantly began to pay her tab, standing to leave.

"Guess I'm off to find Shizune-sempai."

Sukimoto nodded, then turned to leave.

Sakura rolled her eyes heavily as Naruto's eyebrows rose. He cackled as she performed a rather rude gesture aimed at the man's retreating back.

"See you later in treaty hell, Gaara."

Said Sand nin grunted an acknowledgment, watching in amusement as she trailed behind her comrade, covertly mimicking Sukimoto's loping gate.

Naruto finished polishing off his sixth bowl, holding it aloft. "Oi, Old Man!"

Gaara wondered if it was possible to overdose purely on ramen flavoring.

-----

Author's Note: 

Well then. Now that that is all cranked out… Inspiration for naughty hand gestures is to be owed entirely to the collegiate population that surrounds me. And their driving skills. I'm a native Detroiter. Get out of my way. Kthnx.


	3. Implication

Title: Quintessence

Pairing: Gaara/Sakura  
Rating: K+, Offensive language content  
Chapter: Three  
Summary: "Political correctness. Che."

Disclaimer: Naruto doesn't belong to me! If it did, this would have happened canon, sheesh.

**Chapter Three: Implication**

If it would have been socially acceptable, Gaara would have wasted the man where he stood. Weeks ago. It wasn't just the annoyance of his banter, but the man's eager condescension when dealing with both his delegates and himself. The thinly veiled insults flowed like water from the tap today, and his patience was wearing thin for so early in the day.

"...may not mean anything to Suna, but such wording is far too long reaching for Konoha. The implication is quite clear. Why is there no mention of Suna's reciprocal obligation?" Tobita's eyes were bright, mouth set in a mockingly polite smile. Though dressed in the usual Konoha greens and blues, the man seemed to ooze suave money and superiority. Combined with his mouth, it was a recipe for homicide. Gaara begged the powers that be to let the man misstep far enough to allow for a beating. Even smacking him around would be satisfying at the moment.

"Because, Tobita-_san_," Hatsumi nearly growled, "That is the proper interpretation of the statement's implication. You'd do well not to insult the honor of Sunakagure." _Shut up before I shut you up, _thought Gaara. Because Tobita certainly wouldn't. And then they would get to spend the next hour arguing over the word 'readily'.

"Gentlemen, please. As I may remind you once again, this has never come into account in past dealings between our two countries. I see no reason that it should, though I can offer every assurance that Suna has our protection as much as we have their's." Tsunade turned to the Kazekage pleadingly for approval.

"You must forgive us, Tsunade-sama, as this composition is new to us despite the prior standing treaty. You have every assurance of our co-operation."

"Then we can consider this issue of wording resolved?" Shizune had appeared, soundlessly, bent next to the Hokage whispering into her ear.

The Kazekage ruthlessly cut Hatsumi off as he began to sputter in defiance. "Yes, Suna is satisfied with the wording as is." His subordinate seemed to visibly balk, mouth opening to speak as he flushed angrily. Gaara shifted in his seat slightly, and Hatsumi's mouth closed with an audible snap. Sakura suppressed a grin. Gaara noticed with a minute twist of his own lip, shooting her a look.

"Very good. I suggest that we break for lunch. I have business to attend in Konoha." Sukimoto stilled a visibly upset Tobita with a warning glance. Konoha business came first. "And perhaps filled stomachs will be more... unanimous in thought." She ended the sentence with audible irony, catching the ambivalent locking of Hatsumi and Sukimoto's eyes across the conference table. Sake sounded like a fabulous idea at present. Shizune's head drooped in recognition of that particular look on her Kage's face.

Trading swift hand signals with Shizune, Sakura spoke as she pressed a blank document into the Hokage's waiting hands, "Might I suggest a two hour break, Kazekage-sama?" The past two days they'd worked straight through the lunch hour, and Sakura was glad for the change of pace. She was starving.

"That is acceptable."

"It's agreed then, we'll meet in two hours." Tsunade turned to Sukimoto and the handful of Konoha delegates, "Class dismissed." Shizune was grabbed, eyes comically wide in prolonged suffering as the Hokage darted out the door, heels clacking as she took off at a rapid clip down the hallway.

Gaara nodded to his delegation in casual dismissal, shooting a hard look at Hatsumi in particular that had him swiftly out the door maintaining a strained veneer of calm. The room slowly began to empty as delegates trailed out the door with their respective files in hand. Standing to lean against the wall near Sakura, he absently watched as she gathered the Hokage's documents, stacking file upon file until two columns were finally transferred into one teetering mass. Was she really going to carry all that? The stack was nearly the size of Karasu.

"Hungry, Gaara-_sama_?" she teased, pulling her hair out of her face as she motioned to Kotetsu. Ah. Slave labor. Always a plus. The poor man eyed the stack, eyed Sakura balefully, then heaved the documents into his arms and waddled out into the hallway.

"Hnn." Actually, he was, now that she mentioned it. He had a tendency to forget to feed himself, something his own medics were constantly chastising him for. If she had somehow managed to observe his sporadic tendencies at mealtimes, at least she wasn't obnoxious about it. "So that wasn't a summons growling under the table?" He stared, pointedly, as she did a remarkable impersonation of a tomato.

"That's about as funny as your little stunt with throwing your voice to distract Tobita about three hours in. Don't think I didn't notice that." Lying through her teeth. She had thought it had been hilarious. The man must have imagined himself mad. She wasn't quite sure what the sand user had uttered, but soon after Tobita had developed a sudden and abrupt fear of his own writing implement.

"I'm unaware of what you are referring to." Gaara studiously observed the nonexistent activity outside the window, face passive.

A quiet chuckle broke the easy silence. "You seem quite familiar with our little medic, Gaara-sama."

Two sets of eyes turned to Sukimoto, who sat staring at their interaction in obvious distaste.

_Little, _echoed Sakura mentally, _oh really now?_ Who remained a chuunin despite his advanced years, who was reduced to political battles over active duty? Little?! _I'll show him little, shannaro!  
_  
Or not. Political correctness. Che.

"I don't know what you're implying by that comment, Sukimoto-san." Though reserved and almost cheerful sounding, her voice radiated quiet fury. "But my actions outside this negotiation are none of your concern."

"Sakura-san, I would remind you of your position. You may be a close hand to the Hokage but even she answers to this council." Here he closed the brief he'd been reviewing in an infuriately controlled manner and rose to leave, eyes meeting in a final challenge as he turned to exit. "Good day to you."

It took every ounce of Sakura's self control not to send the lesser skilled ninja flying. Tsunade-sama would just assign her even more paperwork than she was already drowning in, and the satisfaction of seeing the man reduced to smithereens wasn't worth anywhere near that anguish. She turned to Gaara, blinking furiously in an effort to not transfer her death glare to the Kage.

"I'm going to kill that man. There isn't a nin in ANBU that could stop me."

Gaara smirked maliciously, eyes laughing. "I'd help hide the body."

Sakura scoffed, preparing to jump out of the open window. "Like there'd be anything left to hide. Ichiraku?"

"Aa. Ichiraku."

She leapt out of the window, his own body free falling after hers as he pushed away away from the sill after securing his gourd. Touching ground, they began to slowly make their way through the relatively clear streets in the direction of the ramen stand.

"Are you sure you want to go to Ichiraku? I mean, there are other places to eat."

He stuffed his hands into the pockets of his long-coat, shaking his head. "I liked the food last time. It's fine."

Silence ensued, and street noise and their own footsteps filled the gap. Peering at Gaara out of the corner of her eye, she couldn't resist temptation.

"So, I'm pregnant with your baby."

Gaara staggered, stumbling over his own feet. Recovering, he turned his head to stare, piercingly, at her, expression unreadable but vaguely threatening.

"We're also secretly married, sadomasochists, and using your sand for kinky purposes. According to the town grapevine."

"Your point is?" Jaw clenching and unclenching, his expression had taken a definite turn towards menacing.

She shrugged. "I just thought I'd give you a heads up. This is the gossip generated from just one lunch."

"And?" His stomach felt odd.

"Well, I know you're a very private kind of person...so..." her voice trailed off, thought unfinished.

"So?" His retort was so vehement, she flinched.

"Most of the town needs a lesson in remedial biology?" He glared. "Oh, I don't know!" She sped up walking a little, and he increased his pace to match hers. "I just, ah, just thought that you should know," she finished, falteringly.

The blue of the noren curtains suddenly loomed in the distance, and Gaara contemplated the back of her head. Anger toward the kunoichi stood out in his thoughts, firstly. Then confusion. The purpose of her emphasis on said implications was in order to... humiliate him? Why would she, after her previous actions? A thought struck him. For his own benefit? Gossip was a useful weapon in the arsenal of a ninja, as the old adage went. His hands curled inside his pockets, unseen. Moving swifter than the untrained eye could follow he appeared in front her, standing directly in her path.

"Who cares?"

"Well, Hatsumi or Sukimoto, for one," She gave a lopsided attempt at a grin. For his benefit then.

"Like I said, _who cares?_ It's all talk, so why even give it consideration?" Gaara's gaze was intense and his eyes seemed to glow, luminescent, from his black rimmed lids. Seconds crawled by.

"I don't." She cleared her throat. "I _don't_ care," she stated with conviction, staring into those same eyes.

"Hnn." Friendship, as he was learning once again, was strange.

"Out with Gaara instead of me again, ne Sakura-chan?"

Her head turned slowly to her left, body frozen. The blond jinchuuriki stood rocking on his heels holding a ramen voucher next to Kakashi, who leered past his book at Gaara in obvious amusement (as much as a masked, one eyed man _could _leer, though if anyone could accomplish such a feat, it would be Kakashi).

"Is it the hair then? Ano, Sakura-chan... I don't think Naruto would look good as a red head."

"Kakashi-sensei!!"

He didn't know what to be impressed with more, the fact that she'd managed to crisp the copy nin, or the fact that the man had opted to take the fire jutsu head on in preservation of the book clutched behind his back.

"Scary, Gaara. Scary." Naruto shivered, watching as Kakashi ducked and rolled to avoid becoming extra, extra crispy.

Shukaku was cataloging the new variations on the epithet 'dirty old man' for posterity, roaring with demented glee as Sakura's shrieked accusations echoed off the nearby buildings causing several mothers to clap hands over tender ears.

"And you!?" She spun to face a shrinking Naruto, who's arms flailed in hopeful pacification.

"I didn't mean it Sakura-chan! Honest, I didn..."

A yellow and orange blur met green and Gaara felt vaguely sorry for the timber as Naruto sluggishly attempted to extract himself from an impromptu tree hug. Kakashi was faintly growling in a sooty attempt to locate a seemingly missing eyebrow.

If anyone had shifted their attention from the ongoing example of why not to get on the bad side of a kunoichi they would have found an even greater terror inspiring visage in the wide, toothy grin stretched across the Suna-nin's face. It was the best amusement he'd had in weeks.

"Oh I know you didn't, you dumb-ass fox! I'll _show _you **s**_**cary!**_" Thud. Groan.

The tanuki cackled; Gaara snickered. Scary. Right.

-----

Author's Note:

This one I wrote at three a.m., cracked out on, re-wrote then wrote again --falls over-- Enjoy my pain, it was a fun distraction from exams. Summer…whoot! Huge thanks to my beta over at LJ, Adaliseranis, and the lethal-empathy community at large.


	4. Animosity

Title: Quintessence

Pairing: Gaara/Sakura  
Chapter: Four  
Rating: K+, Offensive language content  
Summary: "Sometimes she wondered if their friendship wasn't based entirely around food."

Disclaimer: Naruto doesn't belong to me! If it did, this would have happened canon, sheesh.

**Chapter Four: Animosity**

It was another Konoha morning, bright and shining early at eight o'clock. Birds were chirping, the sun was dripping though a cloudless sky. Sakura contemplated the merit of testing her accuracy on a swallow nesting outside her kitchen window. Glaring blearily in the direction of the unseen eave, she viciously stirred dry creamer into the black sludge masquerading as coffee in her mug. In the past weeks she'd neglected many things in excess, one of them being the grocery store. The current contents of her fridge amounted to a few slices of cheese and a moldy, half eaten slab of tofu that had become so thriving with life that Sakura had considered giving it to Shizune as a new lab animal.

Steeling herself, she downed the questionably liquid contents of her breakfast with a barely suppressed gag. Gathering her patience, she prepared for another day of intense boredom mixed with annoyance at a level she'd more expected of Ibiki's little unit. Pursuing the thought as she futilely searched for her keys (always missing, and generally summoned via expletive), she wondered if there were interrogation jutsu that contained that particular element of torment. There had to be. If not, there opened a whole new door for the ANBU branch.

She was already a half an hour late. In a way, of course, that could all be construed as Kakashi's fault. Technically. Cursing as she fought for the thousandth time with the sticky lock on her door, she managed to give herself a blood blister (yet again) trying to turn the stubborn key. Belatedly sucking on the injured digit, she finally turned to leave.

"God _damnit _Gaara!"

He was hanging from the ceiling like some deranged form of chandelier, face inches from her own. Or, had been, before she jumped about a foot in the air and launched a swiftly pulled kunai at his obnoxiously blank expression. He dodged, neatly, leaning ever so slightly to the left. Or right, since he was upside down. Or.. _Who gives a rats ass! Death, now!_

"Good morning, I believe, is the proper address for the time of day." Stated as if it was everyday occurrence for him to impersonate a light fixture in her apartment hallway. It was impossible to take him seriously when all she could think about was that his hair still completely defied gravity by staying exactly the same, ceiling or no.

"How in the hell do you know where I live?!"

Gaara just smirked, staring placidly as she shook her keys at him with the hand not currently attached to her face at the mouth. Letting the chakra in his feet disperse, he fell into a controlled flip, landing lightly in front of her.

"You're late," was all he offered.

She glared, teething at the stubborn blood clot.

Considering her, he seemed to radiate smug amusement. "Are you, or are you not, a medic?" He leaned forward to tug, lightly, on her upraised arm with a finger.

"Shuddupf," she mumbled around her finger, sucking harder.

He shrugged, and turned on his feet to leave. "Kankuro has bagels. In the meeting room," he tossed over his shoulder in parting. She raised a shaky finger to point at him, mouth slowly forming an 'o'.

"Wait just a minute, what are you... YOU... Bagels?"

Then suddenly Sakura came to a startling realization that she'd wasted even more time than before. She was late. Very, horrifically, infinitely beyond redemption late. And one of the reasons why.

"OI! You're late too, you ass!"

In all, Sakura really wasn't a morning person.

-----

Sometimes she wondered if their friendship wasn't based entirely around food. But there was Kankuro, sporting another freshly odd set of purple painted lines and waving a blueberry bagel in one hand with, a steaming cup of something in the other, and suddenly she couldn't care less. A second later he blinked, belatedly, when his hands grasped air and Sakura was holding the now empty cup in his face for a refill.

"Do I _look_ like a cabana boy?" He remarked, growling low in his throat afterwards, lines stretching as his previous grin transmuted into a glower.

Sakura jostled the cup, eyebrows raised. "Would you like to be _my_ cabana boy?" She licked her lips, curling them into a welcoming smile. The things she did for coffee. Tsunade grinned, maternally.

Kankuro groaned slightly, tweaking his cat tipped hat's ear and grabbed the cup in defeat. "Evil. Pure evil. Both of you." The bakery had been a rather forced detour at Gaara's behest from his pre-planned herb gathering, inflicted after he'd dumped off his burden of Suna documents. He had things to do, poisons to create. Women to harass. His frustrated mutterings filtered past a vaguely narcoleptic-looking Naruto who was propped up against a wall, slightly drooling, behind Tsunade. As usual the two Kage sat facing each other, and Gaara had a rather unfortunate full on view of the blond jinchuuriki menace in repose.

After some inquiry Naruto had prompted the Kage to offer food and stimulants to ensure the continued attachment of his appendages after being sent to wake up the morning impaired female. Reason being as it was "the ass crack of dawn", as he'd put it. Apparently it was a bright moment, as the now bagel-less Sakura downed another cup and bagel in rapid succession. The woman did seem marginally less moody.

"Thanks Kankuro," she sighed, handing him back his cup. "Nice to see you again, too." Kankuro merely shook his head, hands moving automatically to refill the once again empty cup. This time it was for himself. He mentally shook a fist.

Sakura blinked as the caffeine hit her brain. This seven in the morning stuff wouldn't fly for very long; at least, she hoped. Ten in the morning was bad enough as it was. "Where's.. everyone?" Other than the aforementioned, only Izumo and Kotetsu sat at attention. The table was conspicuously devoid of ninja.

Tsunade threw a thumb over her shoulder, "I had Sparky here set your alarm back an hour. That and the extra wake up call," she nodded to Gaara, who was absently chewing on a muffin and staring down a sweating Kankuro, who had inched closer to the door. "Figured it would solve that 'black cat problem' you've been having, and we could pound out some expectations of progress for today before the rest of the morons show up."

Naruto snickered in his sleep, smacking his lips and grinning goofily as he repositioned himself on the wall. Sakura's eyebrow twitched as the bagel she was holding spontaneously combusted. It was going to be a long, long day.

-----

Despite their careful planning, it took less than two hours for it to degrade to the point where Hatsumi and Sukimoto were at each others' throats. Tsunade had long since ousted Tobita for insubordination, but Sukimoto, in his respected seniority, still remained. For the life of him, Gaara couldn't bring himself to even remember the specific phrase that had sent the two over the edge. All he knew was that he'd been stuck in the same room debating semantics for nearly a month and they were on page sixty-three of a seventy-two page document. He'd had enough.

"Sukimoto-san. If you are thinking to imply, once again, that either myself or my delegates come to this table in deliberate animosity, I will only ask you this one last time to reconsider your words." Gaara's voice was tense, yet slow and deliberate in his delivery.

Sakura's jaw dropped. Tsunade leaned forward in her seat, unsure in how to respond to the new development.

"And what, Kazekage-sama, do you mean by that?" seethed Sukimoto. "Suna has time and again shown its hands to be hidden from plain view. The Sandaime-Hokage is testament to that."

"After which we entered into a treaty that left us, for a time," he stressed the last, "prostrate at Konoha's feet." His eyes glowed, burning within their dark settings. "Our alliance has proven true time and again. Especially against Oto and Orochimaru. I have no power over the actions of my predecessors."

"Fathers can be easily swayed by their children, Kazekage-_sama._" The honorific was uttered mockingly. Sukimoto stared blatantly at Gaara's gourd that sat half hidden behind Kankuro's bulk.

"Hokage-sama, I respectfully request that Sukimoto-san be removed from this delegation." Gaara's face was taut, lips barely stretched over his teeth in obvious repression of outward violence. "I have tolerated enough slights without taking action, and as of this moment on I cannot be held responsible for taking retribution on this ninja for any further remarks. Shinobi of Konoha or no."

Sukimoto abruptly stormed out of the room with a curt bow towards his own Kage, throwing an infuriated scanning glare towards the Suna delegation as a whole.

The Kazekage had left them with no other option, politically. "I agree, and I think Sukimoto-san will oblige. I believe the other delegates of the Konoha council will also agree upon that removal. Shall we consider this session adjourned?"

"Adjourned." Without another word Gaara heaved his gourd over an arm without bothering to secure it and stalked towards the door. Sakura quickly shoved her paperwork into Kotetsu's arms and bolted down the hall after him.

He'd already made it several corridors ahead of her before she caught up, panting, to run along side of him.

"What in the world do you think you're doing?"

The fact that her voice sounded sincerely confused threw him for a loop. "I'm removing the impediment in this treaty's finalization. I thought that much would be obvious."

"The hell you are. You've just set us back days, weeks even. Do you have _any, ANY _idea of what you've just done?"

His stiff back set even straighter as his hands flew across the buckles of his gourd, securing it in place at lightening speed. "It's you, kunoichi, who seems to be misled," his voice lowered to a hiss, "or perhaps I overestimated your intellect."

"You've just called for the removal of one of the key delegates in this treaty. Not only a key delegate, but a delegate of Konoha! Why not Hatsumi? Don't you get it?!" She grabbed onto his arm, jerking him to an abrupt halt. "You. The Kazekage. Don't you understand how people will interpret that?" She reached out, pushing one hand against his chest with jarring force.

"Sakura, it-" His eyes dilated wildly.

"Didn't you even _contemplate _how the rest of the Konoha council might react to this?"

She pushed against his chest again, and his hands spasmed as they balled against his pant leg.

"IDIOT."

Push.

"Backing Tsunade-sama into a wall like that!"

Push.

"If you'd just...!"

Sand poured from his gourd to restrain her hands at her sides as his own shoved her by her shoulders violently into the wall.

She stared in shock at his face, so near hers, as he bared his teeth and gasped for air like a drowning man. His eyes were unnaturally wide in their sockets and his hands seemed to be fighting against themselves, inching forward as they stroked her throat then jerked back, trembling, against her skin. The sand restraining her eased slightly, but she couldn't bring herself to move.

Gaara, meanwhile, was well aware that he was fighting a losing battle. Undiluted rage bubbled up beneath his sanity and it was all he could do to hold on by a sliver with the repressed adrenaline of the combined confrontations. "It's taken care of," he snarled. Stepping jerkily back from her form, his eyes stayed hers until he'd turned completely away and was halfway down the passageway. Sand slipped from her wrists like water, trailing in the air after its master in streams.

Sakura was left standing in an empty hallway, gazing intently at a whitewashed wall. It held as many answers as she did.

-----

Author's Note:

See if you can't catch the HP reference -smirks-

My car broke down. As in, broke ass towed to the garage DADDY, DADDY HELP, BILL, DADDY broken. This meaning I had to ride my 1960's Schwinn to work like an eighth grader, then my bike got a flat tire. This is the result. I hate country music, but God.

Yes, yes. I know. But they were doing so well! The point is, Gaara is still Gaara. He's just learning to cope with massive emotional management issues, coupled with the fact that he has innate problems with people touching him, ie. sand shields. There are going to be the inevitable misunderstandings and outbursts, no matter how hard he tries. But there's hope, eh?

Huge thanks to everyone who reviewed and put me on alert, etc. Encouragement means I get inspired to write faster and post sooner. That and I feel the need to appease you all. Tch, obligations. --Okobo-chan


	5. Conscientiousness

Title: Quintessence  
Chapter: Five  
Rating: T, Offensive language content  
Summary: "We're posing as _WHAT_?!" Sakura's face turned a brilliant shade of chartreuse, and the air surrounding her almost seemed to crackle with electricity in an impressive display of blatant rage. 

Disclaimer: Naruto doesn't belong to me! 

**Chapter Five: Conscientiousness**

The streets seemed quieter than usual. It was just after seven, and the shadows cast by the village's namesake leafy greens were long indeed. Though, she wasn't necessarily used to strolling through the village at this hour. On 'normal' days she would work the graveyard shift from five to twelve, when the hard cases came in. Nin who had pushed themselves to their limits throughout the day to barely make it to the village, and, in succession, the hospital, after hours.

It was how she'd honed her skills. How she learned to patch limbs to torsos and resurrect the briefly dead. Her hell and her refuge. She'd left Hokage Tower with one destination in mind, the hospital. Trading hours with the normal day shift surgeon, who had jumped at the chance to have a free afternoon, Sakura had spent a productive eight or so hours patching up Konoha nin. This had mostly entailed light training injuries, but there had been some exceptions.

Three hours in a five man team had arrived from Kiri with one D.O.A. and two heavily wounded. A nurse had hailed her from wrapping a sore ankle on an academy student, and she had run full tilt to meet her assigned patient in the E.R. as he arrived. No matter how many times she'd experienced it, the desperation and anxiety of the situation was always the same until she reeled herself in and clinically pushed any emotions aside.

The room had glowed a phosphorus green as chakra pathways strung around multiple medics with meditative scrolls and the convulsing man that lay in the middle of the mess. Taking it in at a glance, the man's entire left chest cavity had been exposed and melted; ribcage, lung, parts of his intestines and other surrounding organs and tissues completely disintegrated by someone or something. Ninjitsu, though often beautiful upon implementation, was always an ugly mess to heal. She'd take kunai or shuriken wounds any day.

Darting between medics she moved to hover over the light haired nin, both of her hands moving circularly over the damaged area at a rapid yet careful pace. Forcing massive amounts of chakra directly into his system, she watched helplessly as the man's eyes rolled back into his head, whites exposed, mouth gaping as he frothed blood. The feeling of muscles knitting, organs regenerating as her own life dripped from her body into his was compounded by the knowledge that her patient would be brain dead upon recovery if she wasn't fast enough.

He'd lived, with his consciousness intact. Barely. If she had been just a few minutes slower, the man would have been a human vegetable. As it was it would probably take him months to recover his fine motor skills in order to return to active duty. But he was alive, and would be able to continue on as a ninja.

And, more to the point, his medical trauma had been a fantastic way to ignore her own dispute from earlier in the morning. But now the shift was over, and she had plants waiting at her apartment to get home to and walls to shout at in the knowledge that she'd have to face _him _the next day.

Dressing in her surgical whites had revealed that her shoulders, though reddened by the force of impact, hadn't even sustained bruises. Though enraged, his self restraint was such that he hadn't even leveled so much as a scratch against her skin, but his eyes still swam before her in the moonlight. Bright, striking even, but filled with intent not to just kill but to _rend _her to _pieces_. 

It was the concealed, desolate knowledge that despite everything she'd learned about him since his arrival she could never be able to predict him as things stood. The man was an island, an anomaly, so wretched that his own people had attempted to do away with him in his youth. It was a hard thing to rectify the small smiles and pleasure he took in the peace of her village with the dark _thing_ that lurked beneath the surface.

She wasn't sure how she felt about it all, in truth. He might have acted rashly, but she hadn't given him the oportunity of an explanation, really. Letting out a short bark of laughter, she realized that, in fact, she'd pushed him too far. Literally and figuratively. Oh, the irony. It didn't even really matter who was at fault in the long run. She was a ninja. It was a hard learned fact that in her world there was no black or white, only the consequences of actions taken.

"Ano, Haruno-san?"

A dark haired boy stood behind her, a genin. His arms rested against his knees, head tucked down as he panted and gulped from exertion. As she raised an eyebrow, he waved one arm wildly holding up a finger, then fell back to panting after a short groan. Raising himself to a parade rest after a jaunty salute, he puffed out his chest. 

"Hokage-sama requests your presence in her office at twenty hundred hours. May I relay your response, Haruno-san?" 

Oh dear god. It was another Gai clone. Except cute and minus the eyebrows. Her lips quirked. "And what would that be in civilian hours?"

The boy's eyes darted from side to side, and she swore that she heard his fingers tapping, counting, against a pant leg. "Eight o'clock, Haruno-san!" He cringed as his voice cracked on the last syllable, and then she was really fighting back laughter.

"Thank you, and you can tell Tsunade-sama I will be there." Her voice wavered a little in amusement, and the boy shifted from foot to foot in near painful embarrassment.

"Thank you, Haruno-san!" And, he was off, darting from tree to tree back to Hokage Tower dispatch. 

Shaking her head, she turned to trudge back to her apartment adding on a little speed. She really needed a shower if she was scaring genin with just her looks.

-----

Oh, she had known. Known the moment she walked in the door. Screwed. Worked over. Up the creek. Her brain continued on with a litany of phrases apt for the situation she found herself in. From the _exact moment_ she had walked in the door.

"What is _he_ doing here?" Sakura aimed an unsettled thumb at the gourd carrying red head who currently occupied a windowsill next to the Hokage's desk. His gaze faced the floor, body tense. Not a muscle moved in acknowledgment. Then, all of a sudden, his eyes raised to clash with hers. It felt as if her nervous system had been shoved into an electrical socket, and she absently gathered chakra into her feet for a quick retreat.

"Sakura, simmer down and shut up." Tsunade's head had tilted as she played with a pony tail, a sure sign of ill tidings to come. "Now, I've been made aware that certain... events have transpired between you two since this morning. That's fine, work it out on your own time, but I need some professionalism for the time being."

Gaara's stare drifted back to the floor. Sakura's gloved fingers drummed a staccato beat against one crossed arm. "What is it then?" Her voice was taut and impatient, like a thinly stretched string.

"Whatever do you mean?" Tsunade practically purred as she watched Sakura simmer.

"What, is, the mission?" Sounding it out in irritation, _and how the hell should it involve him, of all people_, was her continued thought.

"B ranked. High pay, low risk. Actually, ridiculously high pay and low risk. The client specifically requested the both of you."

"What are the specs, Tsunade-sama? You know that doesn't mean shit." If only she had time. Time and a cheese grater. Oh the possibilities.

Tsunade reclined in her chair turning to better include Gaara in her peripheral vision. "I waited until you arrived to disclose."

Sakura blinked, noticing for the first time that Shizune occupied her usual post, manning the Hokage's documents. She was rapid fire unrolling a mission scroll, riffling through it's contents until she came upon a concealed piece of paper, which she handed it to Tsunade. Who, in turn, passed it off to Gaara. He seemed to stiffen even more at having to inch further into the room, but his attention was obviously focused on task as he scrutinized the paper handed to him.

"That, there, is Kurosawa Akio, son of Kurosawa Benjiro. He was abducted from a transport late Friday afternoon, at around nine-thirty, about twenty miles outside of Hi no Kuni traveling inwards."

Sakura's interest piqued, "That wouldn't be the same Kurosawa of BajoBajo Shipping? The one that controls something like ninety percent of shipments within Hi no Kuni?"

"The one and the same." Tsunade's eyes narrowed as she watched Gaara slowly approach Sakura, holding out the photograph far from his body with a steady hand. The pink haired woman seemed to hesitate for long second, then reached out with a hand, keeping as much distance between them as physically possible, and snatched at it with two fingers. Retreating back a couple of steps, her face seemed to soften slightly, staring at the little boy pictured. He was barely a toddler. Gaara, now unoccupied, stared at her expression with rapt interest.

"Have any ransom demands been made?" Sakura's mind ran down the list of possibilities and focused on the most obvious and common; money. 

"No. Apparently the entire thing is over some business dispute with another shipping company out of Mizu no Kuni. Territorial crap, they claim Kurosawa is encroaching on their own business and are using Akio there as leverage in some ongoing business deliberations. And that kid is one hell of a bargaining chip," her voice seemed quieter, as the subject matter seemed to suddenly permeate the atmosphere of the room.

"Kurosawa came to Konoha out of respect to our reputation and as the shinobi of Hi, then learned that the Kazekage was in town..." Tsunade's voice trailed off as she shrugged. "The pay is just too good to pass up, overqualified or not. It's more than fifty times the going rate for a mission of this level of difficulty, and he won't pay up unless you two are the ones on the job. Apparently your reputations precede you."

"What about the treaty?" Gaara's voice suddenly broke the awkward silence that had fallen upon the room, his eyes still trained on Sakura.

"I've already spoken to my own council," hedged Tsunade, "And they don't have any issues putting the treaty on the back burner until this mission has been completed. They said that it would help cement it, actually. Inter-village co-operation and all that."

Gaara nodded his ascent. "I'll talk to my own people, but I can tell you now that you'll have their approval as well."

Fingers worked along the bridge of Sakura's nose as she felt the box slowly closing tightly around her. "Alright, alright already. What is this going to entail?" _Shit._ She wasn't getting out of this one. Of course this had to occur **after** she'd picked a fight with her soon to be travel companion. _Shit_.

"It's a snatch and grab. Retrieval shouldn't be too terribly difficult. A carriage driver says he saw nin wearing a Kiri hitai-ate. The description he gave matched that of a Hasegawa Shin who's down on the rolls in the bingo book. Shin's good, but against you two there's no comparison, and he'll be your main obstacle."

Kirigakure again. A vision of a slim, light haired ninja writhing in agony on an operating room floor suddenly flashed through Sakura's mind.

"Besides your man there, we estimate by our latest information that a couple of no name higher ranked Kiri jounin are involved as well. Your travel expenses, by the way, are being paid by the client in full. Here's the basics." Tsunade threw an itinerary at Sakura, which she caught deftly in one hand. Burying her head in the scrolls contents, she absently gestured at Tsunade to continue on.

"You'll be posing as a married couple. Your back story has Gaara as an Apothecary, you both having traveled through towns selling your wares to raise money in order to pay off the medical expenses of your sick child. It'll be your excuse for any haste on the way there; you're rushing to see your son in the hospital having made enough money to cover any bills." Tsunade was obviously amused as she watched the slow dawning comprehension on her apprentice's face. Sakura shook her head, in apparent confusion.

"You'll need some accounting for traveling with an infant child that won't arouse unnecessary questions or suspicion," she added matter of factly. "This is the tried and true method."

Gaara blinked, slowly unfolding his crossed arms.

"Just a second. Wait.. just a... second... We're posing as _WHAT_?!" Sakura's face turned a brilliant shade of chartreuse, and the air surrounding her almost seemed to crackle with electricity in an impressive display of blatant rage. _Damnit. __**DAMNIT TSUNADE.**_She knew she shouldn't have gotten out of bed this morning.

-----  
Author's Note: Okay, okay, I know. It's an old strategy, but I don't think I've ever read anything (that is to say, anything that was passable as comprehensible English) that used this plot device with this particular couple. I'd say more, but that would be giving it away, wouldn't it?

Some of the below are pretty self explanatory and/or blatantly obvious (omitting the Japanese), but the thought occurred to me to put them down anyway.

Japanese translations and abbreviation list:

Kiri, Kirigakure- Mist, the Village of Hidden Mist  
Hi, Hi ni Kuni- Fire, the Land of Fire  
Mizu no Kuni- The Land of Water  
Bajo- Horse  
hitai-ate- Forehead protector  
D.O.A.- Dead on arrival  
E.R.- Emergency room  
Specs- Specifications

More info on some of my chosen names: Akio, in Japanese meaning 'bright boy' and Benjiro, meaning 'enjoys peace'. And points to anyone who is a fan enough to get the last name of the two! (as well as the origin of the name Hatsumi in relation to the anime Naruto, major, major points to anyone who gets that one! Hint: it's not an in series character, but is in relation to the subject matter.) Hasegawa is in reference to the Land of Water, as the gawa suffix means water in Japanese. Shin is a generic name I pointed at out of a list.

That's about it, so, happy reading and thanks!


	6. Resignation

Title: Quintessence  
Chapter: Six  
Rating: T, Offensive language, content  
Summary: "The line that seemed to have been drawn between them was suddenly all that much broader, and she dreaded the thought of attempting to repair their previously good natured repartee."

Disclaimer: Naruto doesn't belong to me!

**Chapter Six: Resignation**

She looked like she should have been spitting fire. Shukaku was sending him mental images of something vaguely resembling a rather vicious looking scaled green beast, then tacking on a shock of fluffy, short pink hair creating a rather humorous visual. He wondered if it was even an actual creature that existed in the known world, minus the hair. Probably. And probably something as cantankerous, and, well, demonic as Shukaku was too. Though a mouthy captive, the tanuki was fond of imagery as well. And, for some reason unknown to Gaara, the demon seemed to have been imbued with the humanistic trait of humor, albeit generally on the twisted side of the spectrum.

It also helped that the beast was literally raving with madness. After multiple discussions with Naruto, it had been determined that apparently his demon really was just certifiably insane. At least compared to Kyuubi (who wasn't, however, anything to be trifled with however flattering the comparison between the two). The nine tailed bane of Konoha had apparently helped Naruto out on numerous occasions with verbal information. If only his resident headache was that useful, besides the obvious advantages with sand.

Luckily, his demon's near extraction had seemed to tighten at least a few screws. He thought. Maybe. At the very least the beast was easier to silence, for which he was oddly grateful to the Akatsuki. The link that had so bound the two fiercely as one had weakened, and now he was left to sift through thoughts wondering if the rather socially unacceptable prompts were his own or his captives. Oftentimes the end results of such mental inquiries were rather unsettling. Gaara was startled out of his train of thought by the loud clapping sound created as Sakura stomped a foot in exasperation.

He was a bit confused as to the source of her objection, as it wasn't as if she had never been in the same situation before. It was a fairly common cover, and he'd requested clearance to look at her file after being informed that they were being assigned together, though unaware of any further details pertaining to the back story for the upcoming mission. She'd been fraudulently married off to the Hyuuga branch prodigy, Naruto, and even her own sensei on occasion.

Gaara also didn't understand the rationale of her anger on the issue. As though getting up in arms was going to solve anything. However, with the prior information taken into account it did seem that she was _very_ capable of being irrational. He'd been somewhat taken aback after the announcement of the mission details, but no discomfort he had inadvertently revealed even remotely compared to the woman's furious outburst. Shocked emerald green eyes filled his vision, and once again he could almost feel his hands tightening around her lithe neck. Mentally shaking himself, he tried to put the earlier incident out of his mind.

Control around the woman had gone the way of his gourd, behind him. Something about her seemed to reach inwards to mangle his emotional wiring and inevitably wreaked havoc on his system. Personally, he couldn't care less about their current dispute as long as it didn't disrupt in the mission. And as long as the assignment got him far, far away from a certain meeting room, treaty, and both parties of delegates. Contrary to her previously stated beliefs, his own included.

It seemed that she had finally exhausted all viable avenues of maneuvering her way around the cover, running through the list of alternate back stories (shunted aside due to the possibility of civilian interference), personal objection and faked illness. Her complete lack of shame in attempting to extract herself from the situation was vaguely insulting. The fact that he still hadn't quite assimilated her previous outburst from earlier that morning didn't help his growing discomfort at breathing the same air as his soon to be partner. Walls shoved against his consciousness, and it suddenly grew harder to breathe. Forcing himself to regulate his bodies intake of air, nails dug into his pant legs as he rallied his hold against his baser instincts.

"That's enough Sakura. You're going. Unless you want me to bust you down from your current position and pile on the appropriately ranked missions. Your comfort level shouldn't be even an issue in this discussion, and I do seem to remember you nattering on the other day about some ridiculous plumbing bill currently pending."

She'd had her boys over for dinner one night, which, after a few rounds of sake or so, had rapidly turned into a strong man competition on her dining room table. Kakashi had the won the last bout of arm wrestling, tossing Naruto end over head into her sink, and subsequently mangling the pipes and flooding the apartment beneath her. Her Super had _not _been happy with her that week. After some arm twisting (literally), she'd wrangled the money out of Naruto to pay for her apartment buildings repair fee, but not the astronomical bill she'd received from the plumber. It was business as per usual.

Which meant Kakashi-sensei screwing her over with another bill. _Damn that man!_ She sighed, stomaching any further complaint. She turned for the first time since entering the room to take into view the Kazekage as he lingered near the window, staring out into space. She winced, internally, reviewing her behavior. Even If he had been in a forgiving mood before, who knew what the man thought of her now after her vehement objections. The line that seemed to have been drawn between them was suddenly all that much broader, and she dreaded the thought of attempting to repair their previously good natured repartee.

But now it was more than just their tentative friendship. A mission, no matter how seemingly insignificant, could easily turn into a life or death situation. Their teamwork could mean the difference between a little boys survival or his father's anguish. It was not a burden to be carried lightly, or to allow personal disputes to interfere with.

"When do we leave?" Defeated, she moved on to acceptance, turning back to her mentor.

Tsunade considered for a moment, pulling at a lip with a contemplative finger. "As soon as possible, I recommend-"

"Tomorrow. We will leave tomorrow. First light." Gaara's voice cut through, drowning out the rest of the Hokage's response. It was an adamant statement, not a request. 

Sakura locked eyes with his for a tense moment, before turning them down once again to the floorboards. "Fine."

"We'll discuss any further details en route." Steeling his new partner with one last calculatingly heavy glance, Gaara uncustomarily exited out the door, slowly making his way past her instantaneously frozen form into the deserted hallway.

---

Last minute shopping was always trying. It never failed, whatever travel sized amenities she had, supplies that she needed for the road, they were always found M.I.A. or completely used up on the evenings when she was assigned early morning missions the following day. Luckily for her, and many other shinobi, there was a twenty four hour grocers that had established their business hours with ninja in mind. But god, was she tired.

"Yo." The male voice came directly behind her left ear, and would have startled her if she hadn't been aware of his presence long beforehand. Without missing a beat or dropping a shopping bag, Sakura reached out, aiming a deliberately savage punch at his sternum. He dodged, shimmying backwards as she clipped his vest.

"Hello Kakashi-sensei." Her voice was weary, and she decided that she didn't have the energy to pursue an invigorated copy-nin. By the look of his dirty clothing, he'd just gotten back from a rather heavy round of training, and he was always weirdly energetic after even the hardest of sessions. Sometimes she wondered if he poured on the extra pep just to spite them with his revoltingly long burning stamina. 

"Well, your speed is up to par, but we need to work on your sensory awareness." The critique was accompanied by a large grin, squinting his eyes in typical Kakashi style.

"My awareness is perfectly fine," she hissed back, "I just don't consider you a threat to anything besides the lingerie in my panty drawer."

Kakashi lazily raised one silver eyebrow, "You have lingerie? I'll have to remember that the next time I water the plants at your apartment."

"_Kakashi_-**sensei**!"

A certain book was swiftly pulled from a leg pouch, and he was off, pottering leisurely down the street with a quick glance back at Naruto, who trailed behind him exhaustedly.

"I see you limping, you great doofus! Let me fix it or you had better get that fixed at the hospital-"

At the vocalization of the "H" word, he promptly waggled his fingers without even turning back to look at her, tauntingly, and then dissolved into thin air leaving behind a grey plume of smoke. _Typical._

"Where the hell does that old man get the energy?" The bedraggled looking blond promptly flopped underneath a shady tree into a rather inviting piece of grass.

Heaving a sigh, she sat down beside him after depositing her shopping bags in a heap, stretching her legs out as she half reclined on her elbows in the small glade. The lushly carpeted, green patch of earth had a long history for the two, and many other Konoha ninja. Across from the academy, it had become one of her favorite spots to slum with her team. And their sensei. 

"Porn. And saury."

"That makes absolutely no sense whatsoever." Naruto grinned, trying to imagine the man on an all saury diet.

"Yeah. I know."

Silence stretched out between them until he shifted, propping himself on the trunk of the tree from his sprawled, sleepy abandon. "So, I heard that Tsunade-baa-sama pulled the 'you've got bills' card on you today."

"It worked." Her frustration was apparent as she fisted handfuls of grass, then began pulling it out of the ground, blade by blade. It wasn't his fault. Technically. _Kakashi. You bastard._ _I hope you get gangrene._ "Who did you hear the story from?" 

"Kotetsu. That man gossips almost as much as Ino." Naruto smile turned wry at the comparison. The similarity between the two, at times, was just plain unnatural.

Sakura nodded in agreement to the observation, lost in thought.

"Sakura?" Naruto hedged, gently. "Is there something going on between you and Gaara? Or am I reading too much into this? I know how the village gets..." Here he shrugged, turning a questioning gaze towards her.

Groaning, she leaned back and covered her face with crossed arms. "I don't know Naruto. Romantically? No. but these past couple of weeks... I just don't know. Things have just been weird between us."

"What do you mean?" Peaking past her hands to look at him as he spoke, his nose was upturned, lip twisted in childish incomprehension. She couldn't help but grin a little at the reassurance in that expression. If there was one constant in her life, it was Naruto's ability to project a complete air of having never been jaded by life. It was probably erroneous, most likely a coping mechanism, and completely at odds with both his life experiences and profession. But she depended on it all the same. 

"I guess I've started to see him more as a person?" She paused, rethinking her words and their possible connotative impact on her friend. "Sometimes it's easy to just see the status of someone, or your past dealings with them. It's hard to look past that and not let it taint what they've become in the now. But... I think that maybe... Maybe I got too close. Too close while learning too little, too fast."

Studying, intently, the almost trapped looking expression on Sakura's face, Naruto asked the only question he could. "Are you going to be alright with this?"

"Yeah." Sakura turned a resigned smile towards him in reassurance. "I'll be fine." Rolling to stare up at the night sky, she exhaled, starting anew. "It'll be awkward for a while. He's not a bad person. Just... difficult? I'll manage." Sometimes she just needed to say it out loud for it to be true, and after all their years as friends, she wondered if Naruto had somehow picked up on her emotional quirk. Though they bickered, teased, and tormented each other, he was still one of the few people she could count on as a true friend. No matter what, he would be there for her. "Thank you, Naruto."

Standing up, abruptly, she walked over to his perch against the tree. Swooping him into a quick embrace, she hastily gathered her things before heading in the direction of her apartment as Naruto gaped at her in delighted surprise. Never let it be said that she wasn't affectionate. Once in a while. She could hear the blond nearly fall over his own feet in his rush to catch up with her, his sandals fumbling against each other as she made her way out of the park and out into the street. 

"Oi! I'll carry those for you, Sakura-chan!"

She batted at his hands as he tried to relieve her of her baggage, walking a fast as she could without sprinting. "Get away, idiot, you'll just drop them!" As the words exited her mouth, a brand new bottle of expensive perfume was dislodged from one of the bags due to all the jostling. As it hit the ground with a distinct shattering of glass, Naruto whimpered.

"Nar_...ru_...**TO**!"

-----  
**Author's Note: **This chapter stumped me for the longest time, due to actual life. All was sorted out when I put on some techno and buckled down. Music can be a great motivator, and I find that it helps me sorting out the tone of the story. To other authors: Why is it that you get the brilliant plot ideas while in the shower? The one place where you're completely unable to write anything down in any way shape or form? What's up with that?

DJ Tiesto - In The Dark: You tube it. It was _the _song for me while writing this and brainstorming for the next chapter.


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